Not Holly Anymore
by ImprisonedByTechnology
Summary: The brother wand to Voldemort's breaks as Harry shoves it into the troll's nose, bringing him a new wand and the need to be better prepared for his future. For the random AU! Competition in the HPFC forum.
1. Prologue: The Lost Wand

"Bloody hell," he hears Ron exclaim besides him. "Harry, your wand broke!"

He already knows it, of course. As soon as he takes out his wand from the troll's nose he senses dread invading him. He has only had his wand for a few weeks and it's already broken.

"We can fix it with spell-o-tape, Harry," Ron assures him, showing him his own wand. Harry can see some cracks on it, but they all have tape. "Look," says Ron as he makes sky blue sparks appear. Harry can see the magic trying to get out from the cracks, but the tape holds.

"It won't serve, Harry," says Hermione, examining with critical eyes the broken wand. "It's almost in two parts. Not even spell-o-tape will be able to hold it together."

Harry doesn't talk. Really, what can he say? His wand broke and there's nothing he can do about it. He remembers Ollivander's words about being the brother wand to Voldemort's; about it being almost the only wand with that kind of Phoenix feather. He feels his magic bubbling inside him, as if it could feel his distress. He tries to calm down and breathes deeply.

"What on earth were you thinking?" asked McGonagall to the three students.

Harry doesn't care trying to explain and just stares at his broken wand on his hand while Hermione speaks to McGonagall.

"Minerva," says Snape suddenly, walking towards Harry. "The wand, Potter" he orders and Harry puts his wand on his hand. He glances at professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Potter" she says, clearly astonished. "What did you do to it?"

She takes it from Snape's hands and lets out a small gasp.

"We should inform professor Dumbledore immediately," she says, forgetting all about the troll and storming out of the restroom.

"Go to your dormitories" Snape orders them.

Hermione and Ron comply immediately, but Harry knows he must stay there. Even if he doesn't like Snape, he feels he should stay with him.

"Quirrell, get this under control" he commands. "Potter, follow me."

Harry does as Snape tells him and tries to keep on with his professor's long steps.

"Hurry up, Potter, we don't have time."

After a few more minutes they enter the professor's office. Harry stays at the entrance while the professor goes all the way to his desk and sits in front of it.

"Potter! Don't stay there like a dunderhead and come here."

Harry obeys, walking without really thinking. He still hasn't got over the shock of losing his wand. The wand he only had for two months.

"You know what was so special about your wand, Mr. Potter?" asks Snape. Harry nods and looks at him in the eyes.

"It was the brother wand of Voldemort, but it was much more than that, professor." says Harry. "My wand was part of me..."

"Yes, Potter, I know how special a wand is," says Snape, preventing Harry from muttering what he thought non-sense. "But do you know why you had it?"

Harry looks at Snape in confusion. He is not dumb, and knows the professor is trying to make him think. For the professor's attitude in class, Harry knows Snape hates him, but now there isn't hate on his eyes. Instead, when Harry looks at him, he finds himself prompted with disturbing thoughts.

"Dumbledore wanted it like this, didn't he?" Harry asks the professor, who nods and signals Harry to keep talking. "For some reason, he wants me to have this wand, this... connection, with Voldemort."

Snape nods again. "You will not speak about this conversation, Potter, but when he tries to give you a copy of this wand (a newly made one, you dunderhead child, not even Dumbledore can repair this.) you have to refuse it."

Harry nods. Why is Snape telling him to disobey Dumbledore? And more importantly, why Dumbledore wants him to have that specific wand?

While Harry thinks, a flash of fire appears over the professor's desk and a note is left there. Snape reads it immediately after a muttered comment about birds with no manners.

"Well, Mr. Potter, it seems as if the Headmaster wants you in his office."

Harry gulps. He doesn't know what to expect, but he stands up and walks to the door.

"No, Mr. Potter," says Snape before he can reach the exit. "Floo travel is faster and safer."

Harry doesn't catch the last word, but he follows Snape to the fireplace and follows his instructions.

"You need to speak clearly, Potter, or you could end up in someone else's fireplace."

"All right, professor."

He stands in the fireplace and drops the Floo powder at his feet, just like Snape told him. "Headmaster's Office."

The last thing he sees is Snape's frown before landing on his bottom in front of Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"I'm sorry, sir," he says, standing up.

"My goodness, Mr. Potter. Are you all right?" asks his Head of House.

He smiles at McGonagall, letting her know he's fine. Pursing her lips, she points her wand at him and the dust and ashes from the fireplace disappear from his clothes and hair.

"Harry, my boy," says the Headmaster, speaking for the first time. "I have heard of your actions today. Foolish, but very brave, Harry. Just like your parents."

Harry smiles at the comparison, but doesn't stop feeling suspicious about Dumbledore's intentions or Snape's.

"Do you want to see your wand, Harry?" Dumbledore asks, producing his repaired wand from his robes.

Harry's eyes light up. He takes it from Dumbledore's hands but feels something wrong. There warm sensation he always gets when he holds his wand is gone, along with the subtle tingling on his fingers.

He returns the wand to the professor, frowning. "This is not my wand."

McGonagall turns to give Dumbledore a harsh look, an unvoiced I told you so. Professor Dumbledore looks at Harry sadly.

"This is but a copy of your old wand, Harry," he says. "We had to ask Mr. Ollivander to do another wand instead of the old one. It was beyond repair."

Harry nods, but in his mind he knows Dumbledore is not sharing that information willingly. Something is not right about that. "I'm sorry, Headmaster, but I can't use this wand. It doesn't feel right."

Dumbledore sighs sadly and Professor McGonagall puts a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Potter," she tells him with a small (almost unnoticeable) smile. "Tomorrow, I'll take you to Diagon Alley to purchase another one."

"Can I still keep my broken wand?" Harry can see his question is surprisingly received. For a moment, Dumbledore hesitates but Professor McGonagall says yes.

"Here it is, Harry," says Dumbledore, giving him the almost two pieces of the holly and phoenix feather wand. "I advise you to not to try to use it. Terrible things could happen."

The twinkle in the eyes of the Headmaster is not there as he speaks, his opaque blue eyes reminding Harry of Ollivander. _He said I could make terrible things, but I don't have that wand anymore_. Still, Harry nods. There is nothing he can do now, but to wait for his new wand and take care of the broken one.

He doesn't want to talk to Ron (or Hermione) that night, so he fakes a headache and Professor McGonagall sends him to the Infirmary. Madam Pomfrey gladly receives him and gives him a potion to ease the non-existent pain.

After putting on his pajamas, brought to him by a strange little creature with big brown eyes, he climbs into bed. His wand rests on the night table, with his tie and glasses. He doesn't regret saving Hermione, but when he sees his wand he wishes to have been better prepared for the troll.

A small flash of gold lights up on his wand. Like cinders, the phoenix feather turns bright and darkens once and again. It takes Harry a while to notice it does so encompassing his breathing. Sadly, he remembers the words of the wand maker. His wand is an extension of him. The golden light must be what remains of his magic in the wand. He sighs and falls asleep. The wand doesn't light up anymore.

* * *

Harry is happy. Even if he still feels bad for not taking care of the holly wand, he is extremely content with the new one.

When Ollivander hands him the redwood and dragon heartstring wand, Harry feels elated. The warm sensation of the Holly wand gets replaced with a wave of power crashing against him. It feels somewhat cool, like a breeze in a summer morning, when he waves it. The golden sparks out of the wand are as bright as with his _other_ wand.

"Remember, Mr. Potter," Ollivander tells him, "Even if you don't have the brother wand of Voldemort's, you may still accomplish great deeds."

Harry is without words, his smile speaking for him.

Still, he knows this can't happen again. No more running behind a troll without knowing what to expect. He will be prepared for anything that might come up.


	2. Chapter One: The Chamber

_After too many weeks, here's the second chapter of the story. Anyone reading this must remember that it is for a challenge in which I have to create a different story without deviating much from canon, so it will be similar to the books, but at the end you'll see it's also quite different. With nothing more to add, I hope you enjoy this._

* * *

Fate, Harry decides, must be trying to kill him. Down in the Chamber of Secrets, there is no knowing of what will happen. Nerves shake him from head to toe, but he keeps his focus on the rocks he's levitating out of the way. Soon, he has a hole big enough for Ron to go through and they leave the confounded and tied up Lockhart behind.

"Harry, I want to save her but…"

Harry nods. He understands. Ron is afraid and he can't blame him.

"Then stay," Harry tells him with understanding on his voice. "Try the _Ascendium_ we've been practicing and go up those pipes. Tell McGonagall I'm down here, and tell her about Lockhart."

Once more, during the end of the year, he's in great danger and not caring about it. After all, Ginny might be dying and what kind of hero is he if he can't save her? He smiles a bit, and what shows is a dark smile on his worried face, but the thought of Ginny sending him that horrid Valentine is now funnier than the day he received it.

As he keeps on walking, he thinks of everything Ginny is. From the shy fierceness whenever Fred and George mock her to the blank face of indifference when people _talk_ about her family, to the biggest grin he has ever seen in a girl when she gets to talk about Quidditch with them… Ginny is too many things to lose and Harry will make sure she's alive and well.

The cavernous place suddenly starts to look tidy, as if someone once thought of making it better by giving the floor and the walls a polished feeling. He must be close, then, to the _real_ chamber.

When he notices the entwined serpents he doesn't hesitate to command them to open. With great satisfaction he notices that he doesn't have to really focus on them anymore. He can speak the tongue of the serpents whenever he wants. A small victory for a night like this.

Darkness meets him, but as soon as his eyes get used to the shadows he runs. There, lying on the floor is Ginny. A big statue of Salazar Slytherin looks down on her, almost as if the statue senses the supposed taint of Ginny's blood.

He quickly casts spell to check her pulse: weak but still steady. A warming charm returns the color to her cheeks and Harry, for a small moment, can feel hope. At least until a voice startles him.

"Whatever you do to her, she won't wake."

The voice is familiar, and without turning his eyes away from Ginny he knows it's Tom Riddle. _Voldemort_, they had discovered.

"What did you do to her, Tom?" He asks, looking into his eyes. "Whatever it is, we'll make sure she's alright."

A low, dark laugh mocks his words, but Harry doesn't care. He watches as the spell he cast changes along with Ginny's pulse. He knows she doesn't have much time.

Tom Riddle doesn't notice when Harry quickly casts a spell his way, a weak _Impedimenta_ that would have been enough to hurt even Snape. But the spell went through Tom Riddle without affecting him at all.

"You cannot hurt me with that _kind_ of magic, Harry; after all, I'm no more than a memory of what I used to be. A simple reminder of the greatness you made disappear that night… Tell me, how did you do it? Do you remember at all?"

Harry doesn't remember, but he can buy the information he needs out of this memory. _Careful now_, he hears his own mind telling him, _remember last year, remember Voldemort_. He remembers, and hopes this teen Voldemort doesn't know how to read minds, yet.

"I will tell you what I know about my power, if you tell me what caused Ginny to be like this."

Tom Riddle smirks, and he turns away towards Salazar Slytherin's face. "That is really simple, Harry. She put her soul into my diary, letting me grab her from there and making it mine, bit by bit. Whenever she felt sad because you didn't look at her, or when her stupid brothers belittled her, she always came to me, until it was me taking her and using her body to do just this…"

Tom Riddle starts speaking in Parseltongue, and Harry fears for his and Ginny's lives when he hears Riddle calling the basilisk. Harry tries to focus and quickly puts a series of charms on himself. One to let him see only heat, one to get rid of his smell and one to stop his feet from doing any sound when running. Tom Riddle, in the middle of his monologue about being the Heir of Slytherin, doesn't notice his spells.

With his spelled-vision he notices Ginny's almost cold, except for the heart and her brain. She has just a few minutes. Dread invades him, but he concentrates on the basilisk.

_The head is the weakest point, Harry_, Hermione's voice tells him and he tries to think of something. There must be some spell to hurt the basilisk enough to…

No, he can't. Not a creature as powerful as a basilisk, but Nature can and he starts making the stalactites around the serpent grow and fall. The basilisk is quicker than he is, but as Harry looks at Tom Riddle and sees his angry expression, he knows he's doing the right thing. Then he looks at Ginny and the cold in her body makes him react. With more power than he can control, he attacks the snake with the pointy chunks of rock until one finally hits her on the head.

The movements of the basilisk slow down and Harry seizes his chance to force a stalactite to pierce through the brain of the creature. A shriek is heard, but all Harry can do is run towards Ginny.

"You might have killed my pet, but I get to kill yours and take her body for me," says Tom Riddle, angry about his strongest weapon. "It's funny how a simple book can kill a child when a fully-grown basilisk couldn't."

And there it is. What Harry has been expecting since coming down here. Last year, Voldemort himself had told him what to do to get free from him without noticing, and now Riddle's arrogance does the same.

Taking the diary from Ginny's hands to make sure Riddle won't take it from her, he starts pouring whatever magic he has left on his body.

"That won't prevent me from rising again, Potter," laughs the memory. "You'll only accelerate my return."

But this Tom Riddle has never experienced the power of love Dumbledore preaches. Harry remembers last year, when he burnt Professor Quirrell to ashes, and remembers the love he felt when he did that: his mother's love. Here, with his magic crashing against the diary, he recalls all the love he's felt with the Weasley family and pushes it towards the evil thing on his hands.

Suddenly, Tom Riddle starts yelling for him to stop, and Harry looks up to see him.

"You were right, Tom, you're just a bad memory that goes away when we remember the good days."

The shadow of the future Dark Lord tries to seize his neck, but Harry feels only a cold tickle and Tom Riddle vanishes.

Just as he disappears, Ginny's body heat begins to return and he cancels the charm on his eyes. Tears pool on his eyes but a whispered spell gets rid of them. He must be strong for Ginny.

"Ginny," he says, noticing her startled expression. She looks vulnerable, and Harry remembers all the times he felt like that while he was with the Dursleys. His hand carefully approaches hers. "It's alright. Tom is gone."

She looks at him with her innocent, fearful eyes and Harry pulls her closer to him. "It was just a bad memory, Ginny, you'll be okay."

Tears pour down her face while she confesses to Harry everything she's done, and he only holds her. There's no use saying it isn't her fault, not until the shock has passed.

"It was my fault, too, Ginny," he says. "I didn't destroy the diary when I could."

She looks at him. "Nothing is your fault. You saved me; you are the only one who came to save me…"

Harry notices the sadness in her voice. "Ron, Hermione and I were the only ones who suspected where the Chamber was. Hermione stayed behind to make sure we returned when we were supposed to, and Ron went back to get McGonagall and Dumbledore, but… Only a Parseltongue can enter here, so I guess everyone is waiting for us."

Ginny nods, but Harry doesn't move. "You're not ready to see them, are you?"

The girl only looks at him with those frightened eyes and Harry smiles at her.

"Then we'll stay until you're ready."

And they do. Some cleaning, refreshing and cushioning charms later, Ginny is telling Harry everything that happened along the year. She says how difficult it is for her to be in Hogwarts after her six brothers got there first and how ridiculous is for them to not talk to each other.

"Ron was the same last year, you know," he says, remembering the serious conversations that followed their adventures with the troll and his wand. "I can't break his trust, but I can tell you he felt the same as you and he still struggles to get over it, but he's making and so can you."

The shy smile on her face makes him grin, and he vows to never let Ginny Weasley suffer anything in silence again.

* * *

"You did again, Harry," says Dumbledore. "You saved the school, and saved us all. We cannot repay you with anything, but be assured that Mr. Weasley and you will receive the Special Award for Services to the School."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkle at that, but Harry and Ron share a look. They want the bigger prize.

"We'll reject it, Headmaster," Ron says, confidence exuding from his voice. "We did no service to the school; we only wanted to see Ginny safe."

Dumbledore nods, his face serious but his eyes beaming. "Then, will you at least accept points for Gryffindor as a reward?"

This time, Harry speaks. "Headmaster, last year I made you a question and you evaded it. You told me you'd answer when I was older. I know just a year passed, but I ask you again: why did Voldemort target me? Knowing that is the only reward I need."

"The only reward _we_ need."

Harry turns towards Ron and smiles. The support of his best friends assuring him he's doing the right thing, asking Dumbledore for the truth.

"You are right, Harry, of course, but I fear I would take your chance of happiness away if I told you."

Those words from Dumbledore make him feel peace, for a strange reason. "Please, Headmaster."

Dumbledore considers it for a moment, and finally he agrees to tell him.

"Very well, as I'm sure Mr. Weasley will know in one way or another, he will be permitted to hear, if you want it that way."

The couple of friends exchange a look and Harry remembers the night he finally told Ron and Hermione about Snape's warning and Dumbledore's idea of his perfect wand. He recalls how they all vowed to be prepared for anything that might come.

"Let us call Hermione, too, Headmaster."

And when Hermione gets there, aided by Madame Pomfrey, Dumbledore sheds an unnoticed tear, for the truth of Voldemort's reasons will end three childhoods, but will possibly save lives.

"It all started with how Tom Riddle started gaining power…"


End file.
